


let’s do it and say we didn’t

by bitchardtozier



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Art Major Keith, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, M/M, Smut, Theater Boy Lance, keith is a brat whomst i love dearly, lance is an asshole but deep down he’s soft, pidge is DONE!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 21:10:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17885279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchardtozier/pseuds/bitchardtozier
Summary: from the moment keith and lance became roommates; they hated each other. lance was loud, and obnoxious, and rude, and he drank too much. keith was soft, quiet, he just wanted to paint, run track and be left alone.alternatively; keith hates lance, and that feeling is mutual. the sexual tension is too.





	let’s do it and say we didn’t

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is my first voltron fic uwu but i had to. enjoy :~)

keith is startled awake by a loud, _insistent_ pounding on his front door.

 

so startled, in fact, that he springs upwards without a second thought and nearly flings himself face first off the edge of the bed.

 

his breathing is labored slightly and his eyes slowly adjust to the dark dorm room, doing his best to suppress a groan. he fails, epically fails even, the based gods are not on his side and he groans out hoaresly, voice rough from sleep.

 

with the pounding still persistent, keith looks to his right with a slow blink, noting the empty bed across the room. the clock reads 3:53am, and he swears that if it's lance mcclain knocking on the door he'll scream. maybe even kill him. "i'm coming!" he yells, but the pounding doesn't stop.

 

he's borderline angry at this point, he can feel the vein in his head popping out and his cheeks feel like someone set them on fire. with a flame thrower. whoever was at the door better have a damn good reason for waking him up at almost 4am.

 

with languid movements, keith slips his legs out from the warmth of his comforter and into the somewhat chilly room. his feet fall easily into his slippers, and on his trek to the door he flips on the lights, for no particular reason. it hurts his eyes, actually, so he decides it was a stupid move.

 

" _breathe_ , keith." he tries to sooth himself, inhaling deep through his nose and exhaling from his mouth. "murder is a serious charge. jail is not okay. you're too small for jail." he chants quietly on his way to the door, knocking still loud, and unlocks it. he swings it open and is nearly hit in the face by the fist responsible for the knocking.

 

it's lance _fucking_ mcclain.

 

he opens his mouth to speak, but keith holds up a hand to cut him off. "you're a fucking imbecile." he starts, a loud huff falling past his lips. "it's a wednesday morning and you stayed out until 4am partying?" it's posed as a question, but when lance opens his mouth to speak keith continues. " _thousands_ of people on this campus and i get stuck with _you_." he grumbles and climbs back into bed after toeing off the slippers.

 

his eyes are closed when lance speaks. "sorry we can't all be stuck up art majors." and the words make keith's skin heat up. stuck up? stuck up?! lance has the fucking nerve, the _audacity_ to call keith stuck up?

 

"yeah?" keith questions. "well it's better than being a useless fucking alcoholic theatre major." keith shoots back, and without realizing he'd sat up, eyes meeting lance's after the taller boy had slipped his t-shirt off.

 

lance groans, throwing the shirt on the floor like the fucking slob he is. "at least i'm going somewhere! you couldn't sell your paintings if you tried!" hes yelling now, they're both about to be. its way too late for this.

 

"shut your fucking mouth, mcclain, you've never seen my paintings!" keith is fuming at this point, the tips of his ears and reddened from the ferocity of his anger. "you're- you're tall and lanky and fucking stupid! where could you possibly be going with your bug eyes?!"

 

lance is angry now, too, keith can tell by the way his jaw clenches up and his eyes narrow. that usually happened when they fought. "fuck you!" this is usually when the anger peaks, but their door swings open and keith realizes then he'd forgotten to lock it.

 

it's pidge, their next door neighbor, and she's wearing a nighttime face mask, looking tired and equally angry. "can you both shut the fuck up!" she shouts, throwing a roll of toilet paper towards lance's head. it's a direct hit, and keith laughs.

 

she pulls out another and hits _him_ too.

 

"hey!" keith whines, because it's impossible to be angry at pidge. she's too wonderful.

 

plus, her weed knocks lance out, which is a blessing.

 

"this is the second time this week!" she adds, coming over to keith to snatch the toilet roll, doing the same to the one she'd thrown at lance. "i cant spare the fuckin' t-p. i'm in debt." she grumbles and walks towards the door, slamming it shut.

 

keith sits, momentarily shocked, before he gets up and crosses the room to lock their door. he walks back to his bed and climbs in, shutting off his light without another word.

 

since the day lance and keith met, they didn't get along. lance was obnoxious, dirty, and his impressions were annoying. keith, the quiet, studious, neat freak, could never see himself getting along with someone like lance.

 

and as he drifts off to sleep, blankets pulled up tight, he thinks maybe, probably, _most_ _likely_ , he never will.

 

 

**_[ . . . ]_ **

 

 

sweat, heavy breathing and an unquenchable thirst are the only things keith can feel as he sprints from one marker to the next.

 

he's training, vigorously and without breaks, preparing for a track meet that was only three days away. he had to win that meet. if he wins the meet his team will become first in the state. the _whole_ fucken state.

 

he makes it from marker to marker twenty times, two minutes earlier than he'd expected to, and when he makes it to the end he collapses in a heap on the terf of the football field. he reaches out for his water bottle, stretching his arm as far as he can, but to no avail. the bottle is about a foot out of his reach.

 

he groans out, dropping his head back onto the rough surface as he allows his heavy eyelids to slip shut, cursing whatever higher power there is for not giving him longer arms.

 

just as he's contemplating laying in the suns heat until he burns to a crisp, the water bottle rolls into his grasp. he wraps his fingers around it and furrows his brows, his eyes still shut.

 

‘do i have fucking telekinesis?’ he thinks, shaking his head at his own thought. ‘am i a fucking wizard?’

 

he hears the clearing of someone's throat from his right and finally peaks his eyes open, waiting for them to adjust to the bright light. when they focus he spots a tall, _extremely_ fucking muscular guy, with black hair adorned with a white stripe standing above him, smiling kindly. "you're welcome."

 

keith frowns crookedly, bringing the water bottle to his lips and pulling the lid open, squeezing a heap of water into his mouth. he swallows it down before closing the nub and pulling it away. "thanks, i guess." he replies, accepting the offered hand the stranger gives him, getting back to his feet.

 

"i don't think i've seen you before." the guy says, his brows furrowing slightly. "are you new to football? first year?" he questions, and keith laughs softly. the stranger seems confused.

 

"no, no. i'm not into football. i do track, but they're renovating so i can go to my usual spot. second year." he nods once, solidifying his words with a hand pushing through his hair.

 

"that's dope! running is good for you." he says, and offers keith his hand again. "i'm shiro."

 

"keith." keith nods and shakes his hand firmly with the hand not holding his water bottle, his palm a little clammy from the intense workout. "sorry about the sweat, it's difficult to keep in shape."

 

shiro shakes his head, smiling the kindest smile keith has ever seen. "no worries." he says, but subtly wipes his hand off on his gym shorts. "i understand. well- sorta. i'm a linebacker, soooo. not much running."

 

keith chuckles and nods his head, walking over to his duffle bag to sling it over his shoulder, taking another long sip from his bottle. "i bet coach grant still works you to shit."

 

it's shiro's turn to laugh now, and it's a pleasant sound, it bubbles from the bottom of his chest and fills the open air surrounding them. "that he does, that he does."

 

keith nods with a smile, jerking his thumb towards the buildings on campus. "i'm about to go meet up with a friend for lunch, care to join?"

 

shiro hums, his shirt tight and hugging his muscles in the absolute best way. "i'd love to, but practice starts in about twenty. maybe next time?"

 

keith nods, grabbing a pen from his bag and grabbing the sort of strangers hand, scribbling down his number. "let me know when you're free, man."

 

"will do."

 

 

_**[ . . . ]** _

 

 

three days pass in the blink of an eye and keith finds himself extremely not ready for the day that's to come.

 

his mother encourages him through the phone, telling him “you can do it! if all else fails tonya harding a bitch!” and _yeah_ , why not shatter someone's calf? gotta do what you gotta do.

 

he's walking towards the track now, they're on a campus somewhere in baltimote now, his team went ahead to the field so keith could clear his head and get ready for the meet. his duffle sits on his shoulder and his phone is in his hand, airpods in his ears as he blasts old blink-182. he's trying to psych himself up, walking with a little bounce in his step. he can do this, he can. he knows he can.

 

he passes by a garden on his way, the floral scent filling his nose and invading his senses. it's brings a slight calm to him, makes him feel a little more grounded and hopeful.

 

no matter what, he's going to try his best, and that's all that matters, right?

 

when he finally steps onto the track he can see his team warming up across the way, and he moves into a jog so he can join them in stretching.

 

keith sits the bag by the bench, stretching out his tired limbs, enjoying the little popping sounds his joints make. arthritis can kiss his ass, he's gonna crack his joints as he pleases.

 

he's fucking got this.

 

 

**_[ . . . ]_ **

 

 

they win the meet with flying colors, and keith dreads his return to school.

 

he's stepping off the bus now, his bag in hand as he puffs out his cheeks and pops in his airpods. he shuffles his brockhampton playlist, the tune of 1999 wildfire filling his ears.

 

he smiles blissfully, a fleeting moment of him not having to think about the fact that he has to deal with lance again.

 

he moves slowly through campus after waving goodbye to his teammates, not really being friends with any of them. he was sort of a loner, keith, he only really talked to hunk and pidge. he talked to lance, too, but that was the bain of his existence.

 

at first glance keith had found lance attractive, but that all went down the toilet the second the absolute asshole opened his mouth. such a pretty face gone to waste.

 

he makes it to the building and climbs the stairs up to the third floor, padding down the hall until he reaches room 309, yawning out loudly.

 

his fists rub at his eyes, a sweater that's two sizes too big hanging off one of his shoulders to expose his collarbone. keith may hate himself, but at the same time he was _that_ bitch.

 

he fishes his key out of his pocket and unlocks the door, knocking it open with his hip only to immediately be scarred for the remainder of his life.

 

there, in lance's bed, in keith's room, lance's bare fucking ass is exposed as he lazily fucks some girl from down the hall, loud moans filling the quiet air.

 

evidently they hadn't heard keith come in.

 

_fun._

 

keith steps in and quietly closes the door, tip toeing to the kitchen and thanking the lord that lance preferred fucking girls doggy, and the two of them were facing away.

 

he hums under his breath as he fills a mixing bowl with water, nodding his head happily to the beat of hottie, and within a few seconds he's crossing the floor and tossing the full bowl of cold water on the couple, immediately being met with a shrill scream-courtesy of keith- and a loud squeak- courtesy of red head.

 

lance evidently has pulled out and pulled up his boxers, because he's crowding keith and shoving him into the wall with a fistfull of his shirt. "what the fuck is your problem?!"

 

"you're my fucking problem!" keith shouts back, and as they aren't paying attention red head decides to gather up her clothes and run out of the room. butt ass naked. "you do nothing but drink and have sex and it's fucking deplorable! you're a fucking nuisance!" he says, his airpods having fallen out.

 

lance squeezes the fistful of keith's shirt, pulling him the slightest bit forward to slam him back again. he pulls away completely and shivers slightly, moving to his bed. "i thought you were away for your meet, fuck you."

 

"i was. still doesn't mean you can bring random people into my-"

 

"our."

 

" _my_ room. do you even know her fucking name?" keith fires, pushing the black hair off his forehead and smoothing out his now wrinkled sweater.

 

"of course i do, it's-" lance starts proudly, but then he falls short, his face falling as he thinks hard. keith's snorts.

 

"exactly what i thought." he grimaced, tossing his back onto his bed and unzipping it, starting to unpack his weekend things. "you brought a stranger here while i was gone, you didn't even ask. you're inconsiderate. i would never do that."

 

"yeah? well we wouldn't know because you have no fucking friends." lance responds.

 

keith feels a pang in his chest, the words digging deep and hitting the back parts of his mind.

 

he's never been one to have friends, really, when he came out in middle school everyone turned their back on him and decided he was the perfect target for their anger.

 

keith's vision flashes red, and he can't even think, he just acts. he spins around and shoves lance, causing the taller to fall face first on his bed. "fuck you! fuck you fuck you _fuck_ _you_!" he screams, finally letting all of his pent up anger spill out.

 

lance seems to get equally as mad once he stands up, shoving keith back and looking as if he's going to punch him. "i fucking hate you!" he yells. "you're an absolute fucking dick!"

 

keith feels like he could cry, but he doesn't, he would never give that satisfaction to lance.

 

"fuck you!" keith yells, shoving lance's chest as hard as he can, sending the other boy back onto his bed, flat on his back.

 

lance looks up, absolute rage in his eyes, and charges at keith, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pushing him roughly into the wall beside their beds. keith is ready to defend himself, his fists clenching up so he can punch the daylights out of lance.

 

much to his surprise, the last thing he fucking expected, he feels a pair of slightly chapped lips press against his own, his eyes widening. he feels like he should pull away, shove lance and sock him in the throat, but something in him ignites, sending a wave through his body.

 

he digs his fingernails into lance's hips, kissing him with all the anger pent up in his body, a fever of rage trying to expel itself all in one kiss. their lips move together easily, teeth almost clanking with the force of it.

 

keith doesn't know what in the absolute fuck is happening but he doesn't have time to think, all he can think about is how good it feels to have lance manhandle him and push him around.

 

within minutes lance is pulling away, breathless and fitting his hands under keith's sweater, pulling it up the boys torso. keith lifts his arms up to accommodate, letting the fabric fall from his body.

 

"you're a fucking asshole." lance spits out, but despite his words he reconnects their lips, pulling keith's body against his own, roughly gripping the soft of keith's hips.

 

keith grunts into the kiss, wrapping his arms around lance's shoulders so he can tug at the hair at the nape of his neck. "you're a dick," keith moans out lowly, easily following along as lance backs the two of them up towards keith's bed.

 

lance’s shoves the bag and few clothes off the bed, and keith falls easily into lance's lap as the other sits down. all of keith's weight rests on the other boy, because he fucking _deserves_ a struggle. "fuck you." lance shoots back, pulling his own shirt over his head.

 

when their lips meet against keith finds the power in himself to roughly grind down, rubbing his clothed cock against lance's, groaning out happily at the tension that releases from his body.

 

lance lets out a similar noise, moaning into the mostly quiet air of the bedroom. his hands find their way down the keith's ass, his hands cupping it and giving it a soft squeeze before he smacks down hard.

 

keith's moan is breathy, his hips grinding down in a steady rhythm now, the fabric of their gym shorts doing very little to stop the friction. "i hate you, i absolutely fucking hate you." keith says, wrapping his legs around lance's hips as the younger picks him up.

 

he slams keith's back directly into an encased wire, and keith lets out a pained cry as the plaster digs into his spine. he decides to retaliate by yanking the others hair with most of his strength, latching his lips to he crook of lance's neck.

 

he sucks hard on the skin, teeth clamping down slightly as he grinds the skin between his teeth. lance grits his teeth and forces out a breath, pressing his hips forward.

 

lance _likes_ the pain, and keith wants to fucking hurt him.

 

keith follows his previous movements, leaving bright red and irritated skin in the wake of his lips. he's about to stop himself when lance pulls hard at the little mullet keith had grown out, pulling his head back until it's pressed against the wall.

 

"i hate you." lance finally replies, and the way he says it is almost alluring, his voice smooth and dripping with pleasure like honey off a spoon.

 

keith doesn't know what the fuck is wrong with himself, but blood rushes down south and spreads a pleasant warmth within his body.

 

lance starts to take off his shorts and keith tries to follow suit, but the position is a little difficult for that. so, he orders lance to let him go and the other obliges happily. both of them start shedding layers until they're left bare.

 

their lips connect and keith leads lance towards his own bed, kissing him hard until he falls back on the bed.

 

he wastes no time climbing back into lance's lap, rutting his hips down and expelling a long moan at the skin to skin contact; absolutely using lance for the pleasure.

 

but lance was doing the same thing.

 

lance doesn't seem to mind anyway, bucking his hips up and grabbing keith's hips, using his arm strength to forcibly move him. keith rests his palms on lance's chest, moving his hips quickly in time with lance's movements.

 

lance whines, he fucking _whines_ , his breathing labored and falling in short pants.

 

without thinking keith instinctively moves down the bed to his knees, pressing rough open mouthed kisses to the others torso. he pays special attention to the prominent hip bones on the other, sucking a harsh mark into his tan skin.

 

lance rolls his head back, a pleased hum leaving his lips. keith shifts again, wrapping his fingers around the others cock. it's thick, an inch or two shorter than keith's own but much thicker.

 

keith is nearly drooling as he spits on the tip of lance's dick and strokes over him slowly, tightening his grip on the way up and loosening it on the way down.

 

lance let's out a sigh, hips bucking slightly into keith's hand and before either of them can react keith is swallowing lance down, taking him past his lips until he hits the back of his throat.

 

"fuck," lance groans, his hand finding its way into keith's hair as he harshly pulls it. "it's like your mouth was made for cock, fucking incredible." he grunts. "still fucking hate you."

 

keith slaps lance's thigh in hopes that he shuts the fuck up, and easily bobs his head. his neck nearly catches some whiplash with the force of his movements, and he drags his tongue along the underside of lance's cock, swallowing down a bubble of precum that leaks from the tip.

 

(whew, the flavor.)

 

lance sucks in a breath through gritted teeth, his head falling back and his jaw going slack. "god, fuck-" his words get caught somewhere in a groan, and keith pulls off of him with a faint 'pop'.

 

"do you have anything?" keith asks.

 

"what- ah, what do you mean?" lance asks, sitting up so he can reconnect their lips, biting down roughly on keith's bottom lip and giving it the slightest tug.

 

keith lets out a pleased hum. "you better have a condom and some lube, fuck head, or you can kiss this ass goodbye."

 

"god you're insufferable." lance laughs, grabbing a condom and a tube of lube from the little table beside their bed. "hands and knees, now."

 

"make me."

 

lance takes that as a challenge, clearly, because he sits up and roughly bends the boy over his lap, swiftly smacking his ass. "gladly."

 

keith whines softly, his hips pressing back towards his hand as he buries his face in the bed. "do something useful, asshole."

 

and lance does just that.

 

he squirts a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, spreading keith's cheeks and slowly circling his rim with the tip of his fingers. keith is ready to complain but lance easily slips a finger into him, giving not even a second to think before adding a second and thrusting them in and out of him.

 

he cries out, but doesn't tell the other to stop, arching his back in an attempt to get more of his fingers.

 

"god, you're a fucking slut, so cock hungry, hm? ready to be spread open?" lance mutters, and keith has never, ever been talked to like that. something about it makes him harder, if possible.

 

"f-fuck—you." keith grumbles, but his words are overpowered by his actions.

 

they spend a few minutes like that, bickering and going back and forth. when they decide keith is prepped enough they kiss again.

 

keith is covered in drool and precum, his chin is a mess but lance seems to love it, kissing him with an underlying vigor.

 

lance pulls the elder into his lap and rubs his cock against his hole, his lips finding their way to keith's nipples.

 

keith nearly screams, back arching as he sits up slightly, grabbing lance's cock and pressing it to his hole, only taking in the tip and nearly crying at the stretch.

 

he doesn't have time to think, doesn't have time to care about the pain, he adjusts quickly and before long he's bottoming out, skin flush against skin.

 

he sits still for a moment, letting lance play and toy with the sensitive buds, and not long after he's grinding his hips forward.

 

"you gonna sit there or do something useful?" lance spits out although he's panting, and keith wraps his fingers around the boy's throat.

 

"shut the fuck up." he growls, grip tightening slightly as he lifts his hips and drops back down with most of his weight, hand moving to lances jaw as he reconnects their lips.

 

it's messy, their kiss is erratic and interrupted by noises of pleasure, and keith slowly builds up a rhythm of bouncing and grinding.

 

lance tugs at keith's hair, yanking his head back as keith cries out in sheer pleasure, bouncing on lance's cock faster and with more pressure.

 

"i fucking hate you," keith moans, his breathing shallow. "i hate you so fucking much." he pants, his legs nearly giving out as he meekly grinds his hips, rolling them as fast as his body can manage.

 

"ditto, dickhead." lance grunts, grabbing underneath keith's knees and lifting the elder up and flipping them over as if he’d read keith’s mind.

 

keith is grateful, riding dick was an absolute hassle, and lance wastes no time pounding into the other boy with all his strength. keith cries out, tears filling his eyes as he reaches between them to messily jerk his own cock, eyes slipping shut.

 

lance grunts and continues to thrust, bottoming out each time he trusts into keith. soon enough the tears spill over, and keith is a babbling, drooling mess.

 

"fuck, lance, faster, faster, faster." he chants, his usual demeanor stripped away as he chases after his orgasm.

 

lance obliges, hips rocking forward quickly, his patterns more erratic and irregular. keith can tell he's close, and keith can feel the familiar warmth pooling in his own belly.

 

"i'm gonna come, fuck, i'm gonna come." lance pants, his arms flexing with the strength he's using to hold himself up. keith digs the nails of his free hand into his bicep.

 

keith doesn't speak, instead opting for quickly stroking himself off, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

 

it only takes a minute, half that maybe, and keith is coming hard, ribbons of white shooting onto both of their stomachs just as lance spills into the smaller boy, pressing his hips flush against keith's ass.

 

"fuck, fuck!" keith cries, his whole body shaking from the aftermath of his high, his thighs quivering with the force of it.

 

lance is panting, his head buried in the crook of keith's neck as he regains his composure.

 

there's a long silence that over takes them once lance pulls out but doesn't move, their eyes finally meeting as what happens starts to sink in.

 

"did you put on the condom.." keith trails off, and the look on lance's face says enough. "you fucking idiot!" he says as the other gets up. "i said you were fucking useless and look!"

 

lance rolls his eyes and collapses onto the bed beside keith, his eyes slipping shut.

 

"get the fuck up." keith grumbles.

 

"you watered my bed, fuck you. now you get to sleep with me."

 

keith is hesitant, something feels different, something feels like it's changed.

 

he ignores that feeling and looks at lance's face, the boy already has his eyes closed.

 

when keith drifts off to sleep he feels breathing on his neck and a warm arm drape across his middle.


End file.
